


tomorrow is ours

by Contra (orphan_account)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3128570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Contra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>what use is there in travelling the world if you can't come home? Happy End!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	tomorrow is ours

Istanbul is hot in summer and it reminds Guti of Spain. He’s glad about that, he doesn’t think he could have lived somewhere colder. And yet-

(The parties in Istanbul are just as wild as Madrid’s, except it feels like has to drink more more _more_ to get back to the lightness that came naturally to him back home. So he drinks and he doesn’t call Raúl and he thinks

Istanbul is infinitely colder than Spain.)

Qatar is hot in summer, but you don’t really notice it because everything is air-conditioned anyway. It rains far less than it did in Germany or Madrid.

(Sometimes, Raúl just drives, out of the big, shiny city and into the desert. He gets out of his car, his regulated mini-climate and lets the sun burn him to a crisp. He feels exhausted and tired then.

He still prays for rain.)

Guti ends his career in Istanbul. (Football is not the same here, is not the same without Real Madrid. He thinks, I’ve spent enough of my career chasing things I couldn’t have, but Real was never one of them and I won’t turn it into one now.) He goes back, to coach Madrid’s youth (and he loves children, but in some of the boys, he can’t help but see himself, see Raúl).

He thinks, if he ever comes back, he’ll come back here.

(And if I’m going to spend my life missing him, I’ll do it on my own terms.)

Raúl is in New York then and he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. (It’s not rain he wanted, he learns one grey January morning.) Madrid is on his mind constantly.

(The decision comes to him easily one day. He watches a bunch of kids kicking a ball around in Central Park and there it is. He knows what he wants, has always wanted, has always known. He calls a Madrilène youth coordinator. Five months later, he moves.)

(Seeing Guti again doesn’t hurt like it should, like he expected it to. It’s just him, smiling as he talks to his boys. Raúl runs his fingers through his hair, thinks home home _I’m home,_ and calls out a greeting.

The children all run to him, practically humming with excitement, and Guti’s smile might not be like it always was, but it’s there and good and _enough_. Raúl gives hugs and autographs and the future is theirs.)


End file.
